The King’s Daughter

Rage

Dylan’s p.o.v.

My pulse thundered in my ears, each beat fueled by a mixture of rage, disbelief, and something else I couldn’t quite name. She had walked away again—just like before—but this time, it was different. This time, she didn’t leave with her shoulders hunched or her eyes glistening with unshed tears. No, this time, Chloe left with her head held high, her words cutting through me like silver-edged blades.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my claws threatening to pierce the skin. How could she do this? How could she walk away from me as though I meant nothing, as though we had never meant anything? I balled my fist as the mere thinking of this intensifies the rage building up.

“Dylan, don’t waste your energy,” Serene’s voice coiled around me like poison. She stepped closer, her touch unwelcome as her fingers brushed against my arm. “She’s just trying to provoke you. She’s been playing these games for years.”

Hearing this, I turned sharply, my eyes narrowing at her. “Enough, Serene.” My voice was colder than I intended, but I didn’t care. Her constant meddling was as tiresome as it was unnecessary and irritable.

On the other hand, Serene’s lips curved into a pout, but her eyes flashed with something sharper—something dangerous. “I’m only looking out for you,” she said, her tone laced with fake sincerity. “You’re too kind to her, Dylan. She doesn’t deserve it, and she never did.”

My jaw tightened as I looked past her, my gaze fixed on the path Chloe had taken. It was Serene’s voice—the whispered accusations and veiled threats—that had haunted Chloe for years. Yet, standing there in that hallway, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that maybe Serene was right about one thing.

Maybe Chloe was playing a game. But if she was, why did it feel like she was the only one winning?

“Leave me,” I said finally, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Serene hesitated, her features pinching slightly before she plastered on a calm smile. “Of course,” she murmured. “But remember, Dylan—whatever she’s doing here, it’s not for you. She’s only ever cared about herself.”

I didn’t respond. I waited until her heels clicked away into the distance before I let out a frustrated breath, my fists loosening but my anger far from subdued.

Her words lingered, buzzing like static in the back of my mind. Was she right? Was Chloe out here, in these halls, as a mistress, tarnishing my name and dragging the honor of my pack through the mud?

Upon thinking of this, the memory of Chloe’s mocking laughter cut through my thoughts, sharp and clear.

Her words made my blood boil anew. She was taunting me—mocking me as though I was some insignificant pest she could brush aside. But it wasn’t her disdain that stung the most. It was the pride in her voice, the way she spoke with such certainty, as though I no longer had any power over her.

And maybe… maybe that’s what scared me.

I took a slow breath, steadying myself before my wolf could rise further to the surface. The emotions were messy—disorganized and impossible to decipher—and that chaos only made me angrier.

How could she stand there so unaffected while my entire world spun off its axis?

“She owes you an explanation,” I muttered under my breath, forcing my feet to move. The anger tightened my stride as I headed for the nearest balcony, needing air to keep myself from spiraling further.

But even as the cool night breeze kissed my skin, the silence offered no reprieve. All I could see was her face—her hardened gaze, her cold smile—and it felt like I was looking at someone I didn’t know.

‘This wasn’t the Chloe I once married.’

That Chloe had been sweet, soft, and patient—endlessly so. She’d spent years bending over backward to fit into my life, trying to appease me, my pack, my mother. And when I’d pushed her away, over and over, she’d stayed.

So who was this?

This woman looked like Chloe but carried herself like she was untouchable. This woman who walked through the king’s palace like she belonged, daring to stand toe-to-toe with me in ways she never would have before.

Instantly I became skeptical as I pondered, ‘And what if… what if this was who she’d always been?’

The thought crawled under my skin like an itch I couldn’t reach, and the question repeated itself relentlessly.

Lost in thoughts, the sharp sound of footsteps behind me broke through my thoughts, and at that, I turned abruptly, half expecting to see Chloe. Instead, one of my Beta’s messengers approached his expression with a mix of hesitation and urgency.

“Alpha Dylan,” he said, bowing his head quickly. “There’s been an… incident in the hall. Lady Serene requested I inform you.”

My irritation flared again, sharper this time. “What now?”

He hesitated, his eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting mine again. “It seems Lady Chloe caused quite a stir when she left. There are rumors…”

“Rumors about what?” I snapped.

“About her… relationship with the king,” he finished hesitantly.

My teeth clenched, and my wolf growled low in my chest, the sound vibrating through my bones. Whatever game Chloe was playing, it was spiraling out of control. And if she thought I’d stand by and watch while she disgraced herself—and by extension, me—she was sorely mistaken.

“And what about that? She’s the king's daughter.” I uttered and pretended not to be aware of the impending rumor.

“No.” He said, “It is rumored that she’s fake and the king's toy,”

‘Turns out this is true also?’ My eyes flashed with a gleam.

‘This wasn’t over.’ I said inwardly.

I would make sure she understood the consequences of her actions—even if I had to drag the truth out of her myself.